The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day
by H. M. Lee
Summary: The war against Sauron was won, and the ring destroyed; but the Dark Lord sent an assassin from the future back in time to kill the ring bearer. Now, another being from the future must protect Frodo and prevent Sauron from killing the hope of the world.
1. Chapter 1

**The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day**

_(Author's note) Well, here it goes, my first crossover! This is a cross between The Lord of the Rings and the Terminator series, mainly the second movie. Please let me know what you think of my story, I'd love the feedback to improve my writing._

**Part I: An Unexpected Terminator**

**Chapter 1**

It was a clear night outside the village of Bree. The sun had set some time ago, and the stars had come out to bejewel the sky. A cold wind blew through the few trees beyond the town, the type of wind that nipped at exposed skin and drove folk indoors. Nobody was outside the wall this night. Nobody was outside the wall any night.

In one clearing amongst a thicket of oaks, the darkness was shattered as the trees suddenly lit up. A ball of light had appeared, pulsating with energy and letting off numerous sparks. Branches of lightning leapt outward into the dark. If perhaps a few people saw it from far off, they probably thought nothing of it. Just a distant figure with a lamp, they would think. But they would have to admit that it was a very bright lamp.

The ball of light slowly stopped sending off sparks, and its light faded to darkness. In the frenzy of electricity, a few branches had caught fire, though more of a smoldering that would go out quickly than anything that would last.

What little light the fires cast revealed a shallow pit in the dirt where the ball had been. Down on one knee in the pit was a completely naked man. His form bulged with muscles, his stature massive. Remaining unmoving for just a moment, he slowly rose to his feet. The only thing he had with him was a strange sort of pole. It was a shotgun, though no person in that world would know what it was. The man slowly looked to the left and to the right, moving nothing but his head. His gaze soon came to rest on the distant torchlight that belied the position of Bree.

The strange figure stared at the village for several moments, his muscles not moving, his face not diverging from the stony unemotional look it wore. He did not remain standing still for long, however. Deliberately and with no hesitation the man began walking towards the town, raising his shotgun and resting it on his shoulder. Never removing his eyes from the distant village, he just kept moving towards it at a steady pace. That was where he had to find the one he was looking for. That was where he had to find the one called Baggins.

…

The old gatekeeper was in the same bad mood he was usually in when he stayed up through the night, waiting in case someone wanted to get into the village. His job was to deal with the criminals and vagrants who wanted to get in and cause trouble. He bore it all with the same grumpiness that made him one of the least popular people in the village to talk to.

As always, he sat in the cramped gatehouse, mulling over his thoughts, sometimes dozing off. The town council wouldn't like him sleeping on the job, but he did it anyway. _Why do they think they should always be the ones butting into how I do my job, when I'm the one who does it?_ he grumbled in his head. _I'm the one who knows what the right way to do it is. I figure out the best way to deal with those thieves and scoundrels. Those council jerks don't know anything about this job_. With nothing to do, he stared for a while at the torch on the wall, amusing himself by observing the dancing flames.

After sitting that way for some time, the gatekeeper got up to get a drink at his water barrel. _Maybe I should just quit_, he mused, _then I could_- his thinking was interrupted by someone pounding on the gate. While muttering something under his breath about being interrupted, he opened the door to his hut and walked outside where the west gate of the town was. He went up to the door in one side of the gate and opened the hatch that let him see who was on the other side. What he saw was a tall man staring back at him, his gaze not exactly fierce, but hard and steady. The gatekeeper was about to ask the usual stuff about who the man was and what he wanted at this time of night when he noticed that the stranger was completely naked. _Oh great, some freak wants to enter the village_, he thought as he stared in disgust.

"What do you want?" the gatekeeper asked gruffly.

The naked man's expression didn't change. "I am going to the Inn of the Prancing Pony." His voice had a strange accent.

"What for?"

"The details of my mission are classified. I cannot share them with you."

"Humpf. Yeah, right. You expect me to let you in this late in the evening for some 'mission' when you're in nothing but your skin?"

"Affirmative."

"Affirmative? What kind of weird talk is that?"

"I also need your clothes, and your boots."

"Oh, I can see that. There's no way I'm letting you in, you creep."

"I must warn you not to stand in the way of my mission. It could have grave consequences for you."

"Is that right? Why don't you crawl back to wherever it is you came from, bother them for a change?" The gatekeeper slammed the hatch shut on the stranger's face. _Oh, the crazy vagrants I have to deal with. If I_- his thought was cut short as the naked man's arm punched straight through the hatch in the door and knocked him out. He fell to the ground in a heap as the man smashed through the rest of the door with inhuman strength.

Most of the remains of the door fell on the gatekeeper's unconscious form as the stranger stepped through the now opened doorway. Laying his shotgun aside, he pulled the gatekeeper into the hut. A minute later, he emerged, wearing the keeper's clothes, and walking in his boots. With his expression never changing through all this, he picked up his shotgun and straightened to scan the town. It seemed as though nobody had heard the crash, so the now clothed man started walking down the street. His demeanor was cool and collected, his shotgun again resting on his shoulder. He continued on in the direction of the inn.

…

Past the north of the village, the two guards at the north gate were standing outside the wall, but they weren't paying much attention to their job. They were talking, laughing about the happenings in Bree.

"Hey Hildgrim, did you hear what old Butterbur did?" said one.

"No Everard, what happened?" replied the other.

"He was getting that old man who comes by every day to help him with moving some horses, when-" Everard stopped when a bright flash accompanied by a sound like thunder came from only a few stone's throw's away from the wall. The flash turned into flickering that shone off of all the trees that were out in the night. After just a moment, the flickering came to a stop and there again was darkness.

The two stared out into the night until Everard asked, "What was that?"

Hildgrim was slow to respond. "Lightning?"

"But it's a clear night."

"Well, what else could it have been?"

"I don't know, but I didn't see a bolt."

"Whatever it was, it was probably nothing. Now what were you saying about Butterbur?"

The first guard looked out into the darkness for another moment before he answered. "Uh, yeah. So Butterbur had a bunch of guests, which meant the stables were full, so… Hildgrim? What's wrong?" The second guard was not looking at his friend. He was staring away from the wall, his eyes growing wide. "Hildgrim? What do you…" Everard turned his head to look as he spoke, his voice stopping when his gaze fell on what Hildgrim was seeing. A figure was walking towards them. It seemed at first as though it was a man, but as it drew closer, Everard could see that this was no man. It was in the shape of a human, but its skin glittered in a strange way that didn't look like anything he had seen before. Then when it was closer, he could see that it had no skin, and no face. Its entire surface was a shimmering, reflecting surface, as if it had a mirror for skin.

"Everard…" Hildgrim's voice trailed off as the strange being walked right up to him. For a moment, it just stood and looked at him. Then, raising its arm, the being changed shape so that its arm was a blade, which drove through Hildgrim's chest.

"Hildgrim!" Everard shouted. He wanted to run from this thing, but he was stuck in place with fear and disbelief. The thing turned its head and looked right at him, but with no eyes. As Everard stared in terror, it began to change shape again. It formed the perfect shape of a man with clothes on, but everything was still that mirrored skin. Suddenly color spread out over the being's surface, and it was then that Everard realized that the thing had taken the appearance of his slain friend. He tried to scream, but his throat seemed constricted with fear. With a cold look in its eye, the thing extended its arm up, and the last thing Everard saw was its arm forming a blade and flying towards his head.

The figure, now appearing perfectly human, looked over its work with no change in expression. After also gazing momentarily into the surrounding darkness, it calmly opened the gate, stepped through, and shut it again. On the other side it stared vacantly down the street before walking onward, towards the center of the town.

…

Outside the Prancing Pony, the man with the shotgun had arrived, strolling under the entrance arch and up to the front door. When he entered the common room, a few people in the crowd took notice of him, but they ignored him after he walked past. A few commented about the strange thing he carried, but they soon lost interest in him, returning to the usual bustle of conversation. In the corner, the muscled man took a seat from which he could view the entire room. There he sat and watched, waiting.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day**

**Chapter 2**

"I'm saying it again, Mister Frodo. I don't like this place."

"Oh come on Sam, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong? This place makes me suspicious. That's what."

"Sam, suspicious or not, this place is much safer than out on the road, and certainly safer than the Shire."

Frodo and Sam, along with their friends Merry and Pippin, were walking down the main street of Bree, heading to the Inn of the Prancing Pony, as Gandalf had directed them. They had come to the village well into the evening, and the citizens of the town were mostly indoors at this time of night. The streets themselves were quiet, though snippets of merry conversation drifted outside from some of the buildings, their inhabitants staying up to enjoy themselves. It had been only a few days' travel from Bag End, but the frights the hobbits had on the road were enough to silence anyone's desire for adventure. After hiding from mysterious riders in black, and nearly being killed in their journey across the downs, the four were eager to meet up with Gandalf at the Inn.

Sam continued. "Well, I'm not going to sleep well tonight. Not after what we've seen. You saw that flash the same as me as we approached this place. That was not anything natural."

"It could've been lightning or something like that" Pippin added.

"Oh, lightning. On a cloudless night? I don't think so. Something is definitely up."

"Well," said Frodo, "would you rather be out on the road?"

"After what we found at the gate? The door smashed inward and the gatekeeper nowhere to be found? Frankly, yes. That was mighty suspicious."

"That it was" Merry added.

"So you would rather deal with the dark riders out there, instead of here where there's cover?" Frodo asked, "Whatever's going on here can't be as bad as out there."

"I guess you're right…" Sam said. "But if Gandalf isn't there, we'll be in a tight spot."

"Well let's get there already," Pippin added. "I'm starving…"

The Inn of the Prancing Pony appeared before them before long. The building reared up at the base of Bree-hill, much larger than anything in the Shire, even though it was only three levels tall. Above it the lights of houses and hobbit holes on the slopes of the hill twinkled through the darkness, but other than that the only indication of the hill's presence was the absence of stars in a large swath of the horizon sky.

"I hope they have some ground level rooms available," commented Merry. "I never much liked heights…"

The entrance arch was tall from the hobbits' perspective, having been made mainly for men. Upon opening the front door, the conversation and noise of the common room wafted out into the street, and warm air washed over the four hobbits. The door opened into one side of the common room, with a desk to the side for registering guests. Frodo walked up to it. "Hello?" he asked, straining to look over the desk. A balding man with a moustache looked over the side. "Good evening, masters. I am Barliman Butterbur, owner of this establishment. I have some hobbit-sized rooms available if you'd like, and of course my kitchen is always open to guests."

Frodo spoke for the group. "Yes, we'll take a room, but first we are looking for a friend, Gandalf the Grey. Is he here?"

"Oh, that one." Butterbur replied. "I remember him. Tall guy, white beard. He's not here. I haven't seen him in six months."

Disappointment sank over Frodo, but he continued. "Oh… Alright, we'll have to just take the room then."

"Good, I'm glad to help. I'll go get it ready. Oh, and what is your name?"

"I'm Frodo… Underhill. My name's Underhill."

Writing the name in a guest book just before he went off, Butterbur mentioned "In the meantime, you may as well sit and enjoy some food."

"Yes, we'll do that."

As the man walked away, Frodo turned back to his friends. "Well, what do we do now?"

"I was afraid this would happen," Sam replied. "I told you something was up."

"Well, no helping it now," Merry said. "Let's just sit down and figure out what to do next. My feet are killing me."

Frodo looked over the crowd in the room. Smoke from pipes wafted through the room, a fireplace burning at the far end. Unfamiliar as it was, it seemed like the best place to be at the moment.

"Alright. Let's find a table."

**…**

Across the room, the man with the shotgun had been watching the hobbits ever since they came in. His eyes followed them from their conversation at the front desk to their conversation afterwards, and he continued his observation as they found a table and sat down. Despite an expression that never showed that he thought anything of them, he knew who they were. That one who had spoken at the desk was definitely Frodo Baggins. He could now keep track of them. The hard part would soon come.

After a few minutes, the innkeeper walked up to where the man was sitting. "Excuse me sir, would you like to order a drink?"

The man didn't look at Butterbur, but just said "Negative."

"Well, what about some food?"

"Negative."

"Well, is there anything I can get you?"

"Negative. Go away." The command didn't carry any force. If it were any other words it would have sounded like a statement. The man's air, however, carried something the voice did not. The innkeeper felt as though it would be a bad idea to stay where he was. After easing away a few steps, he turned and trotted off to his other duties.

The man with the shotgun continued watching the hobbits as one of them came back to the table with four drinks. Never averting his gaze from the four companions, he kept sitting there like a statue. There was little left for him to do at the moment. All he had to do was wait…

**…**

Frodo was not able to enjoy his drink as Merry and Pippin seemed able to. Sam looked like he felt the same way. This place seemed foreign, even though it was much the same as the Green Dragon back home. And aside from that there was something else. Frodo almost felt as though he could feel some unknown danger coming near. His hand absent-mindedly felt the ring in his pocket. As his fingers passed over it, he felt a sudden urge to put it on and disappear. _No! _He yanked his hand away. _I need to stop doing that. Gandalf said I mustn't_. The feeling had faded for the moment; but Frodo still wanted to leave, to find some place else. _No. You know this is the safest place for you for now. You have to wait here and hope Gandalf comes. If he comes… _As Frodo was mulling over his thoughts, Merry had gotten up a to go get another mug of ale.

Sam leaned over to Frodo and whispered as he pointed towards the corner of the room. "That man's been doing nothing but stare at you since we came in." Frodo tensed when he heard those words, tensed in that way one does when they are trying to not look at something. He leaned on his arm a bit and managed a quick glance at the figure Sam was talking about. In a chair in the corner was a man staring at their table, his gaze steady and firm. Frodo had never seen anyone with such a massive build. The man didn't move a muscle, and Frodo immediately averted his gaze. Who was he? What did he want with them? _Why should he want something with us? I'm just being nervous for no reason…_

His thoughts were interrupted when Merry came back to the table from the counter. He was carrying back a stout mug of frothy drink. As he sat down, Pippin asked "What's that?". "This, my friend, is a pint" Merry replied. Pippin seemed intrigued. "It comes in pints? I'm getting two." Sam objected that they didn't have the money for it, but Pippin was already off at the bar and out of earshot.

Frodo went back to his drink; but as much as he tried, he couldn't rid his mind of all the danger they were in on their journey. He had no reason to notice the man who was coming through the door at the moment. It was a young man of brown hair, with blue eyes that scanned the room as he halted by the front desk. Upon seeing the table with the hobbits, he started walking again, but now in their direction. As he passed a group of other patrons, one called out to him. "Hey, Hildgrim, what are you doing off work this time of night? …Hildgrim?"

**…**

A minute earlier, Butterbur had again approached the man with the shotgun. "Sir, are you going to sit there all night taking up space, or are you going to order something?"

"I will stay as long as I need to." the man replied.

"And just how long is that?"

"The exact length of this phase of my mission is uncertain, but it could be anywhere between fifteen seconds and 8.7 hours." As before, the man never looked at the innkeeper.

"…right. Can't you do your 'mission' somewhere else?"

"Negative, I must remain in this room."

"Well, are you at least going to order something?"

"Negative, I am not carrying any currency with me at the moment."

"Oh, I see. Look here, I've tried to be patient with you. But if you don't leave, I'm going to call the town guard and have you arrested for loitering. And further more…" The innkeeper started going on about how hard working folk were always being troubled by people who wanted to take advantage of them, but the man was not listening. He was instead watching a young man who had just come in and was looking over the room. When the just-entered man saw the hobbits he started walking towards them. The man with the shotgun took notice and immediately rose. Butterbur stopped what he had been saying and said "Oh good, you're leaving. It's about time you- hey!" The man pushed him aside with one hand and grabbed his shotgun off the table with the other, pulling its pump handle as he strode away from his table.

Over at the hobbits' table Frodo was staring into his mug when he heard a voice behind him. "Frodo Baggins?" Frodo tensed up. He hadn't used that name since leaving the Shire. How did this person know his name? Frodo shifted to look behind him when someone in front of him yelled "Get down!" and shoved him to the side. When he looked back up from where he now was on the floor, he saw two things. One, that the man who had yelled "get down" and shoved him was the man from the corner. And second, that there was a blade coming from the arm of the figure who had been behind him and sticking through the space he had just occupied. That was all he was able to comprehend before he heard a thunderous bang.

The man fired his shotgun into the figure with the blade, causing it to reel back as he chambered another round. He fired again, the sound again filling the room. The being staggered back another step, but didn't fall. Again the deafening bang resonated, the figure still staying on its feet. Finally, after the man from the corner had shot the figure for the fourth time, it toppled backwards onto the floor.

Frodo was half-sitting on the floor where the man from the corner had shoved him, wondering exactly one thing: _What just happened? _He looked over at the thing lying on the floor. Its chest had four large holes in it, but they weren't surrounded by flesh. The inside of each one was coated with some sort of silver substance. _That thing tried to kill me._ As he stared in disbelief, the holes started getting smaller, as if the figure was somehow healing itself. He didn't stare for long, though. Turning his head, the man from the corner looked right at Frodo and yelled "Run!". The hobbit didn't need much encouragement. He scrambled to his feet along with Sam, who had dove out of the way.

Through the skirmish, the rest of the patrons had jumped up from their tables, toppling most of their chairs. They now stood in a wide arc around the man with the shotgun and the figure on the floor, keeping their distance. The only reason they hadn't bolted already was from sheer confusion as to what was going on. But now that the man on the floor was starting to get up again, the sight of Frodo and his companions running towards the exit prompted them as to what the logical thing to do was. Thus a mad stampede for any way out of the room commenced. Luckily, since the four hobbits had a head start, they managed to reach the exit without getting trampled.

Back in the center of the now emptied room, the man with the shotgun was getting ready to shoot the figure on the floor again when a man whacked him over the head with a hot poker from the common room's fireplace. The newcomer to the fight was wearing leather clothes and looked like he had been on the road for a long time. His scent indicated that he hadn't washed recently, and his neck-length black hair also looked unkempt. The muscled man grabbed the hot end of the poker as the newcomer swung again. The new man stopped in disbelief as the man with the shotgun not only didn't seem to notice that he was holding a burning-hot object in his bare hand, but wrenched it out of his grip with ease, flinging it aside. The man with the shotgun knocked the newcomer unconscious with a blow to the face and sent him flying into the wall.

The man in leather clothes fell to the floor as the man with the shotgun turned to face his main antagonist. However, the figure on the floor had already gotten up, and grabbed at the shotgun before the muscled man could recover his stance. The man butted the figure in the face with his own head, upsetting its balance enough to allow him to wrestle the shotgun free. Now that it was back far enough, he brought the butt of the shotgun up and smashed it into the thing's face. The figure's head snapped back, but it was undeterred, the silver cavity in its face quickly filling in. It in turn grabbed the man by his shoulders and shoved him around into the wall behind it. A deep thud was heard as the impact made a pit in the masonry. The man shoved back, but the figure used the momentum to flip him over its head and bring him crashing down onto one of the tables, destroying it.

The man pushed himself back up just in time to block a punch from the thing with his hand, sending a counter-blow thudding into its midsection. It took that easily, smacking him across the face with its arm. The blow didn't injure him, but it sent him back a step, which was just enough time for the thing to smash into his chest with its shoulder, thrust him upwards, and send him flying through the front windows and into the street.

The patrons who had previously fled the inn had been standing out in front, listening to the sounds of a fight inside, not really sure what to do. Butterbur was wringing his hands, sweating and muttering to himself about how much this fight was going to cost him in repairs, when the muscled man came flying through the windows, sending shattered glass everywhere. Everyone collectively cried out in surprise and jumped back as he fell down on his back. He did not get up again, and as everyone was staring at him the other figure leaped through the broken window. The crowd took a surprised step back at its entrance; but it ignored them, looking up and down the street. It set off up towards the north gate, the people giving it plenty of space as it passed.

Everybody was starting to crowd around the muscled man, asking each other where a doctor was, when the man looked up and then stood as if nothing unusual had happened. Everyone was amazed that he was unhurt, a wave of whispers going through the crowd as he stepped back through the hole in the front windows. Going over to where he had dropped his shotgun, he picked it up and immediately stepped back outside. Staring over the crowd, he asked "Which way did it go?"

The people were slow to answer, almost as if they hadn't heard; but some vaguely gestured up the street towards the north. The man was about to start after the thing, when he saw a man driving a cart pulled by two horses coming from the south. With no hesitation, the man with the shotgun ran up to the cart, grabbing the side and pulling himself up to where the driver was sitting. He looked the driver in the eye with his fierce gaze. "Get out." The driver, who was more than happy to oblige the threatening figure, dove out of the cart, rolling into the street. He got up unhurt, but the muscled man didn't care. He grabbed the reigns, whipping them and making the horses dart northward, quickly out of sight of the thoroughly confused crowd.

**...**

When the four hobbits burst out of the Prancing Pony, they had no idea what was going on, but they knew that putting distance between them and the Inn would be a good idea. All the patrons who spilled out onto the street were paying attention to the commotion inside, so the hobbits went unnoticed as they ran northward. After a minute they slowed down and stopped in the road to catch their breath. Merry was the first to speak. "What in the Took's name just happened?"

"I knew this place was trouble," Sam said, "If we have any more of these adventures, we're liable to be killed!"

"Ooh, I should never have left the Shire…" Pippin gasped between breaths.

Frodo was eager to keep moving. "That thing knew my name. It's not safe for us to stay in Bree anymore. Come on, we have to get out of here!"

"In the middle of night?" Sam asked, "When we don't have a light to walk by? Maybe we should just hide somewhere."

"You're the one who didn't want to come here! I'm not staying in this place another minute. If we're caught-" Frodo was interrupted by Pippin saying "Look!"

The other three looked back down the street to where Pippin was pointing. A figure was striding towards them, its form dark against the poor lighting. Frodo didn't like the look of it to begin with; but when he saw that it was the figure from the Inn who tried to kill him, he didn't wait around to consult his friends. He bolted towards the gate, and when the other hobbits saw that the thing had started running as well, they followed suit.

Frodo stole glances behind him as he ran. _That thing's fast! It's going to catch us and kill us and- _his thoughts were interrupted when his eyes were drawn to a cart pulled by two horses racing past the figure and up to the fleeing hobbits. It matched their pace as it reached them, and they all could see that the one driving it was the man from the corner from the Inn. Pulling up on their left, the muscled man leaned towards them and yelled "Get in if you want to live!" Sam certainly didn't think the man was his first choice for being rescued, but he and his companions all jumped into the back of the cart regardless. Merry almost slipped and had to be pulled in by his arms; but they were all in, and the man driving whipped the reins, the horses accelerating.

Looking back, Frodo saw with dismay that the thing hadn't fallen back, but was closing the distance between them. As they all watched, the thing's arms changed shape to form long metal hooks. The hobbits started edging away from the back, but there wasn't much room in the cart to move. When the thing had gotten within feet of their mode of transportation, the man driving the cart told Sam to take the reins and stood up in the driver's seat. As Sam fumbled into the front seat, the man shot at the thing, hitting it, but not deterring its pursuit. As the man chambered another round, the thing lunged forward enough to grab on to the cart with its hooks, pulling it self up onto the back.

The thing immediately swung a hook at Frodo, just missing him as he ducked. At this moment they reached the north gate, which was open as some guards were inspecting two bodies on the outside. They jumped out of the way as the cart went blasting through. As the cart entered the surrounding darkness, two lanterns on the back threw dim light on the chaotic scene. The figure was about to strike for Frodo again when the man who had been driving stepped to the back and smashed the thing in the chest with his shotgun. It didn't fall, but it was thrown off balance, its one arm swinging wildly, its other one still hooked onto the cart. The figure swung its hook into the man's shoulder, but he blocked the next blow as he kicked the thing's other hook, dislodging it from the back of the cart. The figure was now just standing on the back; but it grabbed the man, trying to throw him off into the road. However, the man had time to bring his shotgun up, with which he fired a round into the thing's torso, finally knocking it off the cart. It slammed into the road, rolling with the impact and disappearing from the sight of the lanterns as the cart rushed away from it.

The man looked back for just a moment before lowering his shotgun, confident that for now the thing wasn't going to catch them. He climbed back into the front seat, taking the reins back from Sam. As the hobbits stared back into the blackness behind them, the lights of Bree receding into the distance, Sam broke the silence. "Like I said, Mister Frodo, I don't like this place…"


	3. Chapter 3

**The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day**

**Chapter 3**

The four hobbits and their muscled companion sped through the darkness. The road curved and bent erratically, but the man always seemed to know where they were going. Nobody spoke, though it would have been hard to hear over the clatter the cart made on the rough country road.

Almost an hour after they had left Bree, the man slowed the cart down to a more leisurely pace. The horses evidently needed the change of pace; their heads were drooping. It was at this moment that Sam finally spoke up. "Alright, time out! Stop the cart." Without a word, the man pulled the horses over to the side of the road, coming to a stop in a clearing opposite the road from a patch of trees.

When the cart halted, the man calmly stepped down from the driver's seat and started untying the horses. "We will rest here for a short length of time," he said, "but then we must move away from the road."

Sam got off the cart as well, the other hobbits following more hesitantly. "Alright," Sam started, "suppose you just tell us who you are and what you're doing here?"

The man spoke, but didn't look up. "I am a terminator. I was sent here to protect Frodo Baggins from an assassin."

"That thing from the Inn?" Frodo asked.

"Affirmative. It is a T-1000."

"What?" Sam asked. "What's a T-1000? And what's a terminator?"

"A terminator is a robot or cyborg that is programmed to find and eliminate a target."

"Programmed?" Merry asked.

"Robot?" asked Pippin.

"Affirmative" the man replied. "A robot is a metal humanoid machine, controlled by a central processing unit." He had finished untying the horses, and now began fashioning two torches.

The hobbits took a moment to respond. "What?" Sam asked. "You're not real?"

"I am artificially constructed, but I exist."

"No, I mean… you're not a man? Why do you look like one?"

"Though my inner structure is metal, I am covered in organic tissue."

"How!"

"I do not have time to explain everything, but I am not from this world."

The hobbits, who had been simply confused before, burst out in a flurry of questions. The terminator wouldn't answer them at the moment, but only spent time saying that the T-1000 was also a terminator, and a shape shifter. Frodo tensed at the explanation, remembering how the T-1000 had tried to kill him. "Now get ready to move," the terminator said, "we must get away from the road. More than the T-1000 are after you, Frodo Baggins."

After he finished speaking, he pulled the cart into the brush at the edge of the trees, impressing the hobbits with his strength. The hobbits' few bags were loaded onto the horses, and they wasted no time setting out into the surrounding night. The terminator also brought out the two torches he had made earlier: one that he carried in the front, and another that Merry carried in the back. As they left the clearing, Sam asked "But where are we going?"

"To Rivendell, Samwise Gamgee."

"Rivendell! Mister Frodo, we're going to see the elves!"

Frodo would have been excited in other situations, but he couldn't find that excitement; not now, and not in this place he found himself in. He fell into his place in the center of the line as they soon passed out of sight of the road.

**…**

For days there was very little talking between the hobbits. They had plenty of time to ask the terminator more questions, but the drudgery of the journey stifled much conversation. Their leader kept them at a hard pace, traveling from sun-up to sun-down with only short breaks for meals. The hobbits did ask him some questions in the evening as they stopped for supper, but they usually just felt like going to bed. The terminator did tell them that the T-1000 was indeed sent by the Dark Lord, and that he was sent shortly after that.

"So is Sauron going to send more T-1000's? " Pippin asked.

"Negative," the terminator replied, "he only had one of them. Even if he had more he would not have had time to send them before he was destroyed."

"Destroyed? When was he destroyed?"

"In the future, where the T-1000 and I came from."

"What? How is that possible!"

"I will give a detailed explanation of our situation later. There are many things you do not know; and you must sleep, not listen about it all night."

Pippin wanted to ask more, but he realized that he was tired; and more than learning things he wanted to doze off after the long day. He slunk into his blanket, muttering to himself. "Metal people and traveling from the future. The Shire is much more agreeable…"

**…**

As the days drew on, the hobbits were falling into the pattern of sleeping and walking, sleeping and walking. The terminator never had to sleep; he sat watch through the night and kept the strongest pace during the day. The journey was the hardest one the hobbits had been on yet, and it showed. They were frequently lagging behind, and the terminator often had to wait for them and tell them to keep up.

They saw very few creatures out in the wild. The place was wide open, the horizon stretching farther than any the hobbits had ever seen. It was a quiet and lonely place, and the overcast skies did not improve the spirits of the hobbits. At least they didn't run into any servants of the Dark One; but that did little to comfort Frodo, who was plagued by unsettling dreams during the night. He had trouble falling asleep, and even then the sleep he got seemed to do little to give him rest.

In the late afternoon of the sixth day of their journey, the group came within sight of a large hill. It loomed above all the surrounding ridges, and was larger even than the hill of Bag End back home. The hobbits saw what looked like ruins at the top, a jagged circle of rock from an unknown past.

"What is that?" Frodo asked.

"That is Weathertop" the terminator replied. "It was once the Watchtower of Amon Sûl, before it was destroyed by the Witch-King of Angmar in the one thousand four hundred and ninth year of the Third Age."

"Wow," Merry said, "how do you know all that?"

"I have detailed files on Middle-Earth history."

"Oh…"

"We will camp at the top tonight. That will give us a wide view of the area in case of attack."

"You think we'll be attacked?" Frodo asked.

"It is highly probable…"

The climb up the great hill was long and slow. The trail that wound its way around the sides would have taken some time at a steady speed, but after their hard traveling the hobbits were not able to keep up such a pace. The terminator took to walking ahead, waiting for them to catch up, and then walking ahead again. As the grinding trip finished at the top, the cloudy western sky was shifting to the red hue of evening, with clouds blazing with the light of the sun just behind them.

"We need to fortify this location" the terminator said.

"What… for?" Sam gasped between breaths.

"To prepare for a defensive operation to repel the ringwraiths."

"The what?

"Ringwraiths. You may know them as the black riders."

"Black riders? What black riders?"

"The ones approaching from the southwest."

Now Pippin spoke up. "There are black riders coming! How do you know?"

"My sensors first detected them when we started ascending the hill. Since then I have been able to determine their course and speed. They are riding towards us at a rate of 30.9 miles per hour. They will arrive at the base of the hill in about one hour, give or take a few minutes depending on the exact route they take."

As the other three hobbits furiously asked more questions, Frodo's attention faded from the scene around him as the dread of an unseen evil swept over him again. He felt almost as if he could hear the wraiths calling to him, telling him to put on the ring. His focus was jostled back to real life when Sam shook his shoulder and asked of he was alright. Frodo was released from the feeling of dread, but he still carried the sick feeling of fear in him. "I'm fine, Sam."

The terminator ignored their exchange as he continued to speak. "We don't have much time. We must also prepare weapons. My shotgun only has two rounds left, and that will be insufficient to meet our defensive needs."

"We have our swords" Pippin said.

"Those will only be effective if you get a clear shot to the face, which is unlikely given your lack of experience. It is more statistically probable that you would be terminated before getting within three feet of them."

Pippin cast his gaze at the ground as the terminator told the other hobbits to start making a campfire and to keep the torches ready. As they worked, he started disassembling his shotgun and taking apart the lanterns. Pouring all the fuel into one container, he attached that to the ammo feed on the top of the weapon. Tying it on with string, he also tied a small bit of the lantern wick on the end of the barrel. Having completed it, he laid the contraption aside and turned towards the hobbits, who had gotten a fire going with the little wood they had carried with them. With those tasks done, they waited.

Darkness crept over the landscape below them, then covered the hill as the sun fell below the horizon. Nobody spoke as the night came upon the landscape. The hobbits stayed huddled around the fire, staring out into the darkness. Sam ventured to ask if it would be a good idea to extinguish the fire, so they would be less visible.

"Negative. They are drawn by the ring, so putting out the fire will not increase our likelihood of hiding from them. They dislike fire, so keep torches ready and between you and the wraiths." The hobbits took his cue and held out a torch in front of each of them. It was not long before the terminator spoke again. "They are at the base of the hill. Get ready."

Pippin spoke. "It took us a while to get up here, won't they take time getting up here like we did?"

"You were on foot; the wraiths are on horses that have unnaturally enhanced levels of stamina." As he said this he picked up the contraption he built earlier and lit the piece of wick on the end of the barrel.

Sam was about to ask what was taking them so long when a looming shape barely discernable from the dark of the night rose up behind a gap in the ring of ruins. The hobbit had just recognized it as a dark rider when the terminator stepped forward and pulled the pump handle on the device that had been his shotgun. Flames spouted from the barrel and hit the wraith's front side. The figure shrieked as it fell back amongst the ruins. The hobbits were staring at what just happened when Merry yelled "look out!" as a wraith reared up behind the hobbits. Sam shoved Frodo out of the way of its blade as he swung his torch at the figure. It jumped back as the terminator pushed Sam out of the way and blasted the thing with flame, sending it stumbling away as the black robes covering it ignited.

It was now that the four hobbits realized that the ringwraiths had surrounded the hilltop and were attacking from all sides. The terminator brought his device around to fend off another one, but it managed to knock the weapon away before he could fire. He grabbed the thing's neck as they started a shoving match, locked in each other's grasp. Sam was busy fending off one wraith when another one knocked away his torch. He dove for it, but only as he dove for it did he realize that in doing so he had left Frodo exposed to their attack. As he turned to look back, a blank look of fear covered Frodo's face; and Sam saw that he had dropped his sword and was holding the Ring out in one hand. As Sam struggled to his feet, Frodo put on the Ring and disappeared. The wraith halted for a moment, but then didn't hesitate to lunge at the empty space with its sword. Frodo cried out in pain as Sam jammed his torch into the wraith's back. The thing shrieked that same raspy cry and lurched off into the night as fire consumed it.

Frodo became visible again and fell to the ground, yelling in pain. As the hobbit collapsed, the terminator was grabbing a nearby torch as he held a wraith back at arm's length. With one stroke he thrust the torch into the wraith's face, then let go of the figure. As the being crawled and then ran away ablaze, the last of its companions abandoned its confrontation with Merry and Pippin and fled into the night.

Sam immediately ran to where Frodo lay. The terminator straightened up, walking to the edge of the ruins to watch the wraiths' retreat. Merry and Pippin also looked out into the night, breathing heavily. Silence again took the hilltop as the wraiths' cries faded into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day**

**Chapter 4**

The Terminator finished scanning the darkness and walked over to where Frodo lay on the ground. "They are gone" he announced. "We must continue to Rivendell."

Frodo was on his back, clutching his shoulder as he gasped in pain. Sam was already by his master's side, and Merry and Pippin soon joined him.

"Did they take the ring?" the Terminator asked.

Frodo gasped out a "no" as the other three hobbits asked the Terminator if their friend was going to be all right.

"He has been stabbed by a Morgul blade. If we don't get him to the elves soon, his chances of survival are low."

The Terminator stood and said he would be right back, then walked out of sight of the fire. A few minutes later he returned with their two horses, who had run off in the commotion.

The Terminator lifted Frodo onto one of the horses while the other three put out the fire. Since they hadn't set a camp for the night, they were able to depart quickly. The Terminator didn't bother to take along the device made from his shotgun; there was no fuel for it, and converting it back to a shotgun would take time they didn't have. And aside from that, there were only two shells left. The group pressed on well into the evening, stopping a few hours later to sleep for the night.

…

Frodo seemed to be doing better in the next few days. As their expedition moved east, he recovered from the initial signs of injury, though he was still weak. For a few days it looked like Frodo would recover fully, and the hobbits started wondering aloud what the rush was to get to Rivendell. The Terminator, however, insisted on traveling as fast as they could, saying that they would need the elves soon.

Then one morning Frodo was slow to get out of bed. When Sam asked what was wrong, he mumbled something about his shoulder. The Terminator came over and rolled Frodo onto his back. He uncovered the hobbit's shoulder to reveal a stab wound that was fading, but skin that was deathly pale. "Frodo Baggins is becoming seriously ill," the Terminator said. "His injury from the Morgul blade is beginning to penetrate his biological systems. We must get him to Rivendell before he becomes a wraith."

"A wraith!" Frodo, now more awake, interjected. "How could that be?"

"The blade was tainted with a powerful neurotoxin that reconstructs the body at a cellular level. Any contact with it is detrimental, but you received one of the most negative outcomes. We must accelerate our pace." Without even eating breakfast, the five of them got Frodo on one of the horses and their baggage on the other. They set out quickly, with hardly a word.

…

Frodo's condition got progressively worse as days passed. The numbness around his wound spread to his entire shoulder, to the point where he had trouble moving his left arm. Sometimes he couldn't feel anything, other times he felt a dull ache or a throbbing that took hours to pass.

His mind was also affected by the wound. At times when nobody was speaking dark voices echoed in his thoughts. Whispers spoke of the ring, telling him to put it on, telling him to slip away. Something would always distract him back to the real world and silence the voices, but they would always come back later.

Much like Frodo's condition, the weather worsened as the days dragged on. While it had been dry during their journey to Weathertop, now the weather was becoming increasingly soggy. Their pace was slowed by the muddy trails, and their sleep was sparse on rainy nights. The whole group was being run down by the weather, except the Terminator, who hardly seemed to notice. When he sat on watch at night, he didn't even bother to sit under a tree if it was raining.

On one evening Frodo's condition had worsened to the point where he wasn't responding to any of them. He would mutter occasionally, sometimes coherently, but usually not. On top of that he was sweating profusely, with his breath coming in heavy frequent gasps.

That particular night, the weather had taken a stormy turn. Dark clouds were blocking out the sun long before dusk brought the cover of night. By the time they stopped to camp for the night, rain was dousing the area. They huddled beneath a tree, but that did little to keep them dry.

"Mr. Frodo's getting worse, he's going cold!" Sam reported.

"He is succumbing to the toxin" the Terminator said. "Within days his transformation will be irreversible."

"We know! Isn't there anything you can do?" demanded Merry.

"There is one thing I can do. Stay here." The Terminator stood. "I'll be back." He walked away into the forest and was lost to sight.

The Terminator was gone for several minutes. The hobbits were just beginning to ask each other what he could be doing when he returned as suddenly as he left. In his hands he carried several fistfuls of leaves.

"What are those?" Pippin asked.

"These are leaves from an Ethelas plant. They will slow the spread of the toxin."

The Terminator told Pippin to get some water from a nearby stream. When the hobbit returned, he took the pail from him. Crushing the leaves into a pulp, the Terminator wrung out their juices into the water. Since conditions didn't allow for a fire, he left the water cold.

Uncovering Frodo's shoulder, he poured the concoction over the wound. Frodo shivered as the chilly water met his skin, but he also stopped breathing so heavily. Suddenly he opened his eyes.

"What… happened…" he asked weakly.

"You were unconscious Mr. Frodo," Sam informed him excitedly, "but the Terminator here made something that helped your wound!"

"It only slowed the toxin" the Terminator said. "It did not eliminate it. In the morning we must m-" The Terminator's words were cut off as lightning struck almost overhead. The sound of its strike exploded over the area. The hobbits cringed as the sound sent their ears ringing. The moment it struck, their two horses started neighing in fright. In a panic, they broke their ropes of the branches they were tied to and bolted out into the night.

"No!" Sam yelled, and dashed after them. They outpaced him by far, and he knew that he couldn't find them stumbling around in the wet night. He returned to his companions, and the hobbits waited for the light of day in a dismal mood.

…

The fleeing horses had taken most of the food with them, and the hobbits carried only a small amount in their packs. Their breakfast was some meager scraps of bread and water. The group trudged on down the road, with the Terminator having to carry the again-unconscious Frodo over his shoulder.

"When are we going to get to Rivendell?" Merry asked.

"On foot we are still several days from the Rivendell" the Terminator said. "It is unlikely that we will get there before the ring wraiths intercept our course."

"What?" the hobbits all exclaimed at once. "I thought we defeated them!" Sam said.

"Our battle on Weathertop only repelled them temporarily. They have regrouped, and my sensors indicate that they are closing on our position at this moment. With the loss of our horses, it is impossible for us to outrun them."

"Then what do we do?" Pippin asked.

"We must evade them in any way possible. If we can pass over the Ford of Bruinen, we will be protected by the power of the elves. Our most significant problem is Frodo Baggins' health. If he does not receive treatment from the elves soon, he will die."

"Then let's get to Rivendell faster!" Sam said.

"That will be difficult without a faster mode of transportation. We have no horses, and going on foot will take to long."

"Then what do we do!"

"There is little we can do at the moment. We can only-" the Terminator stopped in his tracks. The other hobbits stopped as well.

"What is it?" Pippin asked, but the Terminator motioned for him to be silent. Soon the hobbits heard the sound of hooves coming from up ahead. Their first thought was that it was the wraiths arriving, but then they saw a figure on a horse round a bend in the road at a gallop.

The horse was white, and the rider wasn't wearing black robes. His cloak was grey, and as the horse got closer, they saw that the rider was a slender figure with golden hair. As he stopped in front of them, they recognized him as an elf. He spoke as the Terminator walked up to him.

"Greetings, friends. I am Glorfindel. I was sent by Lord Elr- whoa!" he was cut off as the Terminator yanked him off his steed. As the elf thudded onto the ground, the Terminator hoisted Frodo up on the back of the white horse, and got on behind him. He pulled the reins around and whipped the horse down the road towards Rivendell.

As the horse raced back down the road, the other three hobbits ran over to the elf, asking him if he was all right. Glorfindel sat up, demanding to know who was the man who had just stolen his horse.

"Don't worry" Sam told him, gazing down the road. "I'm pretty sure he's on our side…"

…

The white horse raced across the landscape as it left the trees and came out into the open. Frodo was only vaguely aware of what was happening, only hearing the endless thudding of hoofs. Foggy vistas raced by him, and blurs of things that were probably trees.

The Terminator kept the horse galloping as fast as it would go, but he knew that wasn't enough. He sensed the wraiths getting closer as they entered a flat of scattered trees. Dodging trunks as they went, they were nearing the ford when he saw the first wraith.

The dark shape came out of the trees to their right, riding in the same direction as them. The wraith veered towards them as it drew its sword. The Terminator reached over Frodo and grabbed the hobbit's blade, holding the reins in his left hand and the sword in his other. The wraith lunged at the hobbit with its blade; but the Terminator blocked with his own, their swords clanging off each other. As the wraith drew back to strike again, the Terminator swung his blade in a horizontal cut, striking his opponent's sword at the hilt and sending it flying. The wraith was thrown off balance, lurching awkwardly as its horse fell back.

Two other of the dark figure's companions angled in from the left. One reached out a bony hand to grab at Frodo, but the Terminator's sword sliced into it. The wraith screeched in pain as it pulled its hand back. Grabbing its own weapon, it swung a downward arc at the two of them, but the Terminator transferred Frodo's short sword to his left hand and countered just in time. The two blades locked for just a moment until the Terminator muscled the wraith's blade back. This set it off balance long enough for the Terminator to shove the dark being off its horse and into the wraith just to its left. They both hit the ground and rolled, but scrambled back onto their horses, joining more of their companions closing in from the rear. Now there were nine chasing the white horse onward.

Frodo's perception of what was going on was murky at best. Dark shapes battled right next to him, but they seemed miles away. The ring hung heavily around his neck, burning against his chest. The voices called to him, closer than they ever were on before. They coaxed and urged, giving Frodo a great urge to put on the ring, fall off the horse, and run away unseen. His mind argued with itself endlessly as the Terminator clashed with the ring wraiths, steel meeting steel. The horse swerved back and forth, but all Frodo felt was a vague sickness until the sensation of water splashing on his legs brought him back to his surroundings.

The horse plowed through the currents of the Ford of Bruinen, coming up to the opposite shore. The Terminator checked the horse and brought it around to face their attackers. As the wraiths' dark horses halted in the middle of the river, one in the middle advanced a few steps as its rider spoke.

"Come here…" a thin, breathy voice uttered. "Bring us the Halfling, tall one…"

"I cannot comply with your order. Doing so would compromise my mission" the Terminator replied. "You are interfering with my attempts to prevent Frodo Baggins' death, and if you do not stop you will be terminated."

Nine raspy voices laughed. "You speak strangely, tall one… You cannot keep us from the Ring… What is going to prevent us from taking you both to Mordor…?"

The Terminator kept his gaze fixed on them as he pointed upstream with his right arm. "That."

A roar filled their ears as the dark riders saw a wall of water cascading downstream towards them. Four of their horses reared up in fright, while the others bolted for the shore. They were not fast enough. The flood swept the horses off their feet as it overwhelmed the nine wraiths, washing them all downstream with a roar. Frodo saw them disappear into the foaming rapids as his consciousness faded. White light filled his vision, and he saw no more.


	5. Chapter 5

**The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day**

**Chapter 5**

The first thing Frodo was aware of was a pressure on his back. As his senses began coming back to him he realized that the pressure was from him lying down on something. He figured that it was a bed from the soft feel of it. Getting back more of his strength, he managed to ask "Where am I?"

"You are in Rivendel" a voice responded. "You are safe." Frodo recognized the voice. Light filled his vision as he opened his eyes. The light faded as he began to make out a room around him. Intricately carved wood formed a ceiling that vaulted over him in an arc. To his right a wide doorway opened onto a balcony. He heard water flowing somewhere outside, but his attention was directed to a person sitting near the foot of the bed. It was the person who had spoken. A person he knew right away.

"Gandalf!" Frodo exclaimed, sitting up a bit. "You're alright!"

"Yes" the wizard replied. "And you are alright as well, in no small part thanks to your friend here, it would seem."

Frodo now saw that the Terminator was sitting by Gandalf, as stoic and unreadable as ever.

"What happened to the wraiths?" the hobbit asked.

"They have been driven away" the Terminator said. "They will not obstruct our progress for a long time."

"Yes," Gandalf said, "it appears that they have been driven out of the North, back to their foul nest in Minas Morgul."

Frodo breathed easier upon hearing the news. He lay back and stared at the ceiling for a while before asking "So what's going to happen now?"

"Lord Elrond has made arrangements that a meeting take place to discuss what must be done about the Ring. Both you and your, uh…" Gandalf looked at Frodo's companion.

"Terminator" the man replied.

"Ah, yes. Both of you have been asked to attend. But for now you must rest as much as you can."

"But where were you all this time?" Frodo asked. "Why weren't you in Bree?"

"That will be answered in time, but for now you must rest."

Frodo had so many questions left, but the weight of his tiredness pulled him back into the bed. It was not long before he was back asleep.

…

Over the next few days Frodo was feeling much more like his old self. He was soon well enough to be out of bed, and he was able to explore much of Rivendel. The Terminator always went with him, saying that he was programmed to protect Frodo at all times.

Sam, Merry, and Pippin were also with their friend in his recovery. Horses had been sent back for them and Glorfindel, who was understandably upset at having his steed stolen and being left in the wilderness. He regained his cool when he learned of how the Terminator got Frodo to safety. Together the four hobbits spent hours exploring Rivendel and listening to songs and tales, attending feasts and gatherings. They were all together when Frodo was reunited with Bilbo. He always knew that Bilbo had gone to Rivendel, but actually seeing his dear uncle again was as great a part of his healing as anything else.

From the moment Frodo arrived in Rivendel Elrond had planned the council with visitors from afar to discuss the matter of the Ring. The Terminator insisted that this meeting happen as soon as possible. Elrond had originally planned for it to occur a few weeks after Frodo's arrival, but at the Terminator's insistence it was decided that it would happen within days.

The morning that the council was to meet, Frodo was sitting with his friends (and the Terminator) out near the gates to the house of Elrond. They were discussing the council and wondering what would become of all the events of recent days when they heard hooves coming up the road. Looking down the path they saw a brown horse galloping towards them with a dark-haired man on its back. As soon as it pulled up to them the man staggered off of it, and the hobbits saw that the man's head was bandaged and that his arm was in a sling. The man looked right at the Terminator and said "I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and who in the blazes are you!"

"I am a terminator."

"Why did you assault me at the Inn?" the newcomer demanded.

"You initiated the conflict with an act of aggression" the Terminator replied. "I responded appropriately."

At this moment Elrond walked up to them and stopped when he saw the stranger. "Aragorn, what happened?"

"This man attacked me and kidnapped Frodo Baggins!"

"I did not kidnap Frodo Baggins" the Terminator said.

"Yes you did!"

"Negative, he is right here."

"What is going on?" Frodo asked in bewilderment.

"Aragorn son of Arathorn attacked me in the Inn of the Prancing Pony after you ran outside. I responded appropriately."

"You threw me against the wall!"

"It was necessary to remove you from the conflict so I could focus on Frodo Baggins' attacker."

"What attacker!"

At this point Elrond cut in. "Stop. Let us discuss these matters at the council. That is the reason I came for you, Frodo. The council is about to begin."

Frodo looked between Aragorn staring daggers at the Terminator and the Terminator nonchalantly returning the gaze. "All right" Frodo said. "Let's go."

…

_(Author's note) Yes, this chapter was kind of short. The next one will be longer, and I think you'll like it!_


	6. Chapter 6

**The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day**

_(Author's note) Hello... I'm back. I guess this is where I'm supposed to make a bunch of excuses for where I've been for 8 months. Let's just call it procrastination and get to the story._

**Chapter 6**

The sun filled the valley of Rivendell with light, the last of the red hues of dawn having faded. The House of Elrond was quieter than usual; the regular singing and merrymaking was reserved for another time. Now there were grave councils to be held, and decisions to be made.

In a stone courtyard overlooking the valley, chairs stood in a circle around a small table. Seated in them was the widest variety of peoples. Most were Elves; but there also sat men alongside them, along with dwarves from Erebor, as well as Frodo, with Gandalf on his right and the Terminator on his left. Aragorn sat on the far side of Gandalf, next to Elrond. As Elrond began speaking, everyone watched him except Aragorn, who was eyeing the Terminator suspiciously, and a few of the others, who were sneaking glances at Aragorn in his bandages.

Elrond stood and addressed the group. "Visitors, you know why you have been called today. The enemy of old is rising again, and in this dark hour the Ring of Power has been found. Now this council must decide what is to be done about this threat to the world. It is at this time that Isildur's Bane must be dealt with before all is lost.

"But first there is another matter. By now many of you have heard of Frodo Baggins' companion. It is appropriate that he introduce himself."

"I am Cyberdyne Systems model T-101, a terminator," said the Terminator.

"…and what is that?"

"A terminator is a robot that is programmed to eliminate a target." That led into a lengthy attempt at getting him to explain what a robot was in language they could understand, much like he had to do with the hobbits. The visiting dwarves eyed him suspiciously as they tried to get a sensible answer out of him. After some minutes, one of them asked "So if you are not man or elf, dwarf or orc, then what are you?"

"I am a cybernetic organism," he replied, "living tissue over a metal endoskeleton." The dwarves gave him skeptical looks.

"Alright," one of the elves finally said, "just tell us where you came from."

"I was manufactured on March 10, 2028 AD in a factory in what was formerly known as California."

"Where in Middle-earth is California?" Aragorn demanded.

"It does not exist yet."

"What are you talking about?"

"I am from the future."

"What are you talking about!"

"I was sent back in time from when I originated."

"Who sent you?" Aragorn demanded.

"You did," the Terminator replied.

Everyone gasped and started muttering to each other (not for the last time). Frodo was surprised as well. The Terminator had told him that he was from the future, but never that he had been sent by anyone in the present.

Elrond stood and called for order. "Silence! We will get nowhere if we don't stay calm. Master… Terminator, tell us your tale from the beginning."

"Affirmative. As I told you, I was manufactured on March 10, 2028 AD. I was outfitted for termination missions against the human resistance."

"Wait, wait," a brown-haired dwarf interrupted, "what human resistance?"

"The remains of the human race who were fighting the civilian defense computer Skynet" the Terminator replied.

"The what?"

"The computer Skynet. It is a similar machine to my central processing unit, but it has approximately twelve thousand times my processing speed."

"So it's like you."

"Affirmative. Only immobile."

"Why do you keep saying affirmative?"

"To acknowledge that you have spoken accurately."

The dwarf looked bewildered, but the Terminator continued. "It is irrelevant for you to know how the war began, only how I got here. On January 15, 2029 AD Skynet sent another terminator 34 years back in time to terminate John Conner, the leader of the resistance, before he could become a threat. At about that time, I was captured by Conner's forces and reprogrammed. They sent me back to the same time as the other terminator, in order for me to protect him.

"However, a programming error twice caused an electric surge in the time-displacement equipment, sending each of us back 20,000 years earlier than our intended destination. The electric surge erased both of our mission databanks; we both remembered our previous missions, but did not act on them. We materialized at about the same time in Mordor." A murmur passed through the council as the Terminator continued. "Both of us were immediately found by Sauron on February 6, in what you call the 3019th year of the Third Age."

"But that's next year" a white-haired dwarf pointed out.

"Next year _was_ when I arrived. As I was saying, Sauron studied both of us, and learned some of the details of time-travel and how to re-program us. He likely would have programmed us to terminate the forces of Gondor if the Ring wasn't destroyed first."

"We destroyed the Ring!" Frodo exclaimed. Others joined in, asking how this had been done. Elrond had to call for order again before the Terminator could continue.

"Affirmative, the Ring was destroyed in Mount Doom, in Mordor."

"When!" several people asked at once.

"Several months after we materialized."

"So it was destroyed in Mordor…" Elrond said. "I had hoped we wouldn't have to attempt such a thing, but if it succeeded…"

One of the men in attendance asked to know more about the ring, saying that he had heard little. "Forgive me" Elrond said. "We have gotten caught up talking about Frodo's companion and have not discussed what we came here to solve. Frodo, bring forth the Ring."

With that Frodo rose and stepped forward. Taking the Ring out of his pocket, he placed it in the center of the table for all to see. Quiet chatter filled the council as he sat down. Gandalf then told the entire story of the Ring, from its forging to Frodo receiving it from Bilbo. There was then talk of what to do with it, but it was quickly determined what must be done.

"If what the Terminator said is true, there is no avoiding it. The Ring must be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom. That is where it was forged, and that is where it will perish."

The brown-haired dwarf who had spoken earlier now stood up. "Why not do it now?" he asked as he picked up his axe. Raising it above his head, he brought it crashing down onto the ring as though it were a log. An ear-rending crash of metal against metal sounded through the courtyard as the mighty battle-axe shattered. Its pieces went flying as the dwarf fell on his back and everyone else scrambled to cover their faces. The dwarf stared in shock at what had happened to his weapon, and then looked up as the Terminator spoke.

"The Ring is made of a reinforced titanium alloy. The force required to break it is beyond your technological capability to produce. Only the intense heat of Mount Doom's central crater can destroy it."

"The Terminator is right," Elrond declared. "If we are to escape the coming doom, the Ring must be taken to Mordor. Hiding it will only delay our defeat. One of us here must take the ring to the dark land and cast it back into the chasm of fire."

No one spoke. A few eyes looked to the Terminator, but he guessed what they were thinking. "Negative. I am not programmed to take the Ring to Mordor. My current directive is to protect Frodo Baggins."

Silence filled the courtyard like a fog. Each person was debating himself, wondering if he was the one to take up this task. But none spoke; fear kept their mouths shut. Elrond was about to ask again who would take the Ring when a single voice spoke: "I will take it."

Everyone gazed in astonishment at Frodo. He met their eyes with confidence as he again said "I will take the Ring to Mordor". In his heart he felt as though he might never come back from this journey, but there was no other way. He had received the Ring, and it was his responsibility.

"So be it," Elrond declared. "The ringbearer will see this task done. We must prepare for the expedition to save Middle-earth. Gandalf, do you think the journey can begin before winter?"

"Negative," the Terminator responded. "The expedition must leave immediately."

"Why is that?" Gandalf asked. "We need not dash headlong into danger. We should send out scouts to see the lay of the land, and where the servants of the enemy are."

"Yes," Elrond said. "Why leave so soon?"

"Because the T-1000 is approaching. We gained a significant lead in our travel here from Bree, but it will likely arrive within a few days."

"The T-1000? Just what is that?" Aragorn asked.

"That is the other Terminator that was sent back with me, the one I was telling you about when I was interrupted." The others remained silent while the Terminator spoke. "When Sauron was beginning to learn from us the details of our construction, and how to operate us, he detected that the Ring was in the crack of doom, about to be destroyed. In a panic he sent his operatives to intercept the Ring, but he determined that they would not get there in time. So, he was able to program the T-1000 to kill Frodo Baggins, and he sent it back in time one year, using what he had learned about us. He did not send me because he determined that I was not as technologically advanced as the T-1000, which had shape shifting abilities and a superior computational matrix.

"Soon afterwards Barad-dûr collapsed when the Ring was destroyed. Sauron's ability to existence was decimated, and his power was virtually eliminated. I was found several weeks later by the forces of Gondor who were sent to investigate the wreckage of the tower. They brought me back to Minas Tirith where, after I told them about the T-1000 and its mission, I was reprogrammed to protect Frodo Baggins from his assassin. I was sent back to the place and time where the T-1000 materialized, and from that point I waited for him." He went on to describe the confrontation in Bree and the flight to Rivendell, which left all but one person breathless.

"I don't remember any assassin!" Aragorn declared. "The Terminator attacked Frodo and knocked me out. I woke up days later and rushed along the path they took, which led me here."

"Negative," the Terminator replied. "I did not attack Frodo Baggins. The brain trauma you received has clouded your memory of the event. You attacked me after you saw my skirmish with the T-1000 begin."

Aragorn stayed silent after the Terminator's explanation, but his expression showed that he felt anything but trust for Frodo's companion.

Elrond stood again. "Then it is decided. The expedition must leave tomorrow. None here should feel any obligation to take this dark road, but Master Baggins must not face it alone."

"I'm not letting this thing out of my sight!" Aragorn declared. "I will go."

Gandalf declared his intention to go, as did Boromir of Gondor. Soon Sam, Merry, and Pippin dashed out of their hiding place and joined their friend. Gimli, the dwarf who had unsuccessfully tried to split the Ring, declared, "You have my axe! …Or its replacement…"

"And you have my bow!" Legolas of Mirkwood cried.

"And my computational battle matrix capable of seven trillion calculations per second" the Terminator said.

Everyone gave him and odd look, but the Terminator didn't seem to notice. "So be it!" Elrond declared. "These ten companions shall face fire and darkness, and bring about the Dark Lord's doom! They shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

Frodo looked around at his companions and at Aragorn, who was still glaring at the Terminator. Sam leaned over to his friend and whispered, "Well. This'll be some trip, Mister Frodo."

"Affirmative," the Terminator replied.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day**

**Chapter 7**

The ten of them stood just inside the gates of Rivendell, ready to depart. They were well equipped despite having had only one night to prepare. The elves had provided them with cloaks and food, weapons and waterskins; they were as ready as they ever would be. Frodo carried Bilbo's sword Sting; and Gimli had his father's axe, graciously loaned to him for the journey. All the others had their own weapons, except for the Terminator. He had requested and been given two weapons: a mace, which he held in his right hand; and a bow, which was slung over his back.

"Companions, we have prepared you as quickly and as thoroughly as we know how," Lord Elrond told them. "The road ahead of you will be long and dark, and you must take counsel in your guide at all times. Gandalf, have you decided what path you will take east?"

"The gap of Rohan is controlled by Saruman," Gandalf replied. "We will take the Redhorn Pass."

"Negative, the pass will be obstructed by heavy snows. We must proceed along another route," the Terminator responded.

"There is no other route," Gandalf told him. "The Redhorn Pass may be difficult, but it will get us across the mountains."

"That is incorrect."

"Come now," Frodo cut in, "arguing is a poor start to our journey. Let's discuss this on the road."

"Yes, time is your greatest weapon in this fight," Elrond said. "The more of it you have, the better. We must not spend too long sending you off, so allow me to say just one more thing." He raised his hands as he spoke. "May all the blessings of the free peoples go before you, and may you carry on through all roads."

"It will be unnecessary to travel on every thoroughfare," replied the Terminator, "the one to Mordor will be sufficient."

"Yes, that's what I meant…"

With that the companions turned towards the road, proceeding out with Gandalf leading the way. Aragorn had been just behind Gandalf, but he soon dropped back a few spots. Now he followed Legolas, who was just behind the Terminator and Frodo. As they hiked out of the valley and turned south, several of them, especially the hobbits, turned and gazed back longingly at the fair dwelling, reluctant to leave such a place after only just arriving. In the back, however, Boromir noticed that Aragorn was the only one who didn't look behind.

…

For the first day the companions kept a steady pace, making much progress. The weather was kind to them; there were no winds to bother them, and the only rains they saw were off to the west. They made camp late and rose early, and it was not long before everyone was feeling tired.

It also wasn't long before the topic of how to get across the mountains came up again. For the moment they were making their way parallel to the mountains, and their path would take them to either the pass or the Gap of Rohan. But in a few days they would have to make a decision. During the nights Gandalf would stay up talking with the Terminator. Debating, it seemed to most.

"We cannot go through the Gap," Gandalf said one of those nights. "Isengard lies too close by. Saruman would be a fool if he kept anything but a complete watch over it. The pass is our only way. What other road is there for us?"

"We must travel _under_ the Misty Mountains, not over them," the Terminator replied. "The pass will be inaccessible."

"But how do you know?" Gandalf asked. "Did one of us in the future tell you which way we went?"

"I cannot answer that question."

"Why not?"

"I was programmed to not provide information of what will happen during the journey. This is to avoid any disruption which might jeopardize the success of the quest."

"And yet you are still insisting that we not go over the pass."

"Affirmative. It will be inaccessible."

"But if you know which way we will go, why not just let us find out which way is the right one?"

"I must avoid delays in our progress. Such delays will decrease Frodo Baggins' probability of survival. That is my first directive."

Gandalf leaned back against a tree and considered the Terminator's words. "So either you were told that we would not be going over the pass, or we _did_ go over the pass, but conditions have somehow changed with your arrival."

"As I said, I cannot tell you," said the Terminator

"Yes, yes; I know." Gandalf stood. "It seems I will get nothing more out of you, not tonight at least. You are quite the difficult advisor, Master Terminator. Good night."

…

In a few days the road had led them to the west of the pass. The peaks loomed like great towers to the east, closer than ever; and it was time to make a decision.

"We must at least _try_ the pass," Aragorn declared as the group sat in a circle. "Right now it is our best option."

"But the Terminator has said that we will not be able too," Gandalf replied. "And I am inclined to believe him."

"And why is that? Does he know something we do not?"

"I have told you everything that I am programmed to," the Terminator told him. "I can only tell you that the pass will be inaccessible and a waste of time. Do not forget that the T-1000 is tracking us."

"Yes, of course," Aragorn replied with an annoyed expression on his face.

Gandalf said, "I am inclined to believe him because obviously he knows much more than we do. He can't tell us, but he knows how our journey will play out, and that makes him the best one to make those sorts of judgments."

"I also am inclined to believe him," Frodo said. "Not the least reason being that he saved my life." He turned to the Terminator. "But you say that since you cannot tell us about things that happen during our quest, then either you know that the pass was not the way we would take; or it originally was, but something has changed that will prevent us from using it."

"Those theories were inferred by Gandalf, but they are logical," the Terminator replied.

"So _have_ conditions changed because of your coming?"

"I cannot tell you because that would indicate whether or not you crossed the pass originally, and violate my mission directive."

"Alright…" Frodo thought for a moment. "If we fail to cross the pass and then turn back for another road, would that give the T-1000 enough time to catch up with us?"

"That depends on the T-1000's current position, which is difficult to determine; but it is unlikely that it would have enough time to catch up to us."

"And what are our options if we cannot make the crossing?"

"The Gap of Rohan is too dangerous. Even with my capabilities, Saruman's superior military strength would overwhelm me. The only other option is the Mines of Moria."

The members who knew the significance of that statement gasped, and even the hobbits sensed that this was not a road that they wanted to take. "All the more reason we should try the pass!" Aragorn declared. "The Mines are no place to enter lightly, especially when such superior options are available."

"But the pass is inaccessible," the Terminator said.

"Aragorn is right," Gandalf replied. "The Mines should be our last option, even with the risk of the T-1000. But we still need to consider the Terminator's words. Frodo, what do you think?"

Everyone turned to the ringbearer. After another moment of thought, he spoke up. "It seems that there are three possibilities. Either conditions have changed and the Terminator is right that the pass is blocked, or we never went there in the first place; and in both cases we should avoid it. The third possibility is that conditions have changed, but the Terminator is wrong in his assessment, and the pass is accessible. And because of that, I think we should at least try to cross here." The fellowship seemed to share his view, and it was quickly decided that they would attempt a crossing.

"It's settled, then," Aragorn declared. "We make for the Redhorn Pass immediately!"

"Alright," the Terminator replied, "but this is a bad idea."

…

"As I informed you earlier, this was a bad idea."

"Shut up!" Aragorn said as he brushed the snow from his face for the hundredth time. He led at the front of the line as the fellowship shoved their way through waist-deep drifts (face-deep for the hobbits). This was his second turn at making a path in the front, and he was enjoying the experience even less than the first time. While from a distance Caradhras had seemed calm and sun-lit, now a blizzard raged across its face as the fellowship tried to both keep moving and avoid freezing.

Frodo shivered as he tried to wrap his cloak around himself even tighter. There was nothing to see on his right, where the cliff they walked beside dropped into darkness. In front of him the vague shape of the Terminator loomed like a phantom. As he and his companions trudged on, he again thought to himself that the Terminator had probably been right.

Just ahead of him the Terminator was speaking with Gandalf. "This snow is going to be our doom if we get stuck," the wizard declared. "Where in Middle-earth did this blizzard come from?"

"This storm is not a natural weather pattern," the Terminator replied. "It likely originates from a power source to the south."

"Saruman."

"Affirmative. Isengard is the most likely origination point."

The thunder that had been sounding throughout their ascent was now quite close. Each clap rang in the travelers' ears, even through the constant howl of the wind. But soon it seemed that there was a voice rising and falling in the wind, like a figure dashing in and out of view amongst the trees of a forest. It got louder until they could almost hear words. None of them said a thing until Legolas finally shouted, "There is a foul voice on the air!"

Gandalf, who was already gazing worriedly into the distance, yelled, "It's Saruman!" even as a great rumbling shook the mountain. The Terminator grabbed Frodo and shoved him against the cliff to his left. Boulders tumbled from some high place and dropped into the abyss.

"He's going to bring down the mountain on top of us!" Legolas yelled.

"Now would be a great time to turn back!" Gimli added.

"I will not be turned back by him!" Gandalf declared. Striding to the rim of the chasm, he began shouting words they could not understand. The Terminator then walked up and pushed Gandalf back, saying, "I'll handle this." Standing at the edge of the cliff, he leaned into the wind and yelled, "Fuck you, asshole!"

…

Miles away, Saruman stood atop his tower, focusing all his energy on the mountain, when he heard an odd voice in the wind.

_Did I just hear what I thought I heard?_ he asked himself.

…

Back on the pass the blizzard did not subside. "My response appears to have been ineffective," the Terminator announced.

"Gandalf, we have to turn back!" yelled Aragorn. "If we stay here any longer we'll be crushed!"

"No!" replied Gandalf. "We must keep going! If we turn back-" His voice was cut off as thunder struck above the party. Everyone looked up to see a wall of snow falling towards them. The Terminator shouted at them to get against the cliff, but his words were lost in the roar as the white enveloped them. Frodo scrambled to cover his face as his body was cocooned in cold. For one terrifying moment he couldn't hear or see a thing; but he soon found that he could move his limbs, if only a little. With a great heave he pushed first one arm and then another above the snow, and started shoveling it away from his head. All of a sudden someone grabbed his arms and hoisted him out onto the surface, where he sucked in the fresh air. Frodo looked up to see the Terminator looking back.

"Are you damaged, Frodo Baggins?"

"No…" the hobbit replied. "I think I'm fine…" He looked around at his companions. Gimli was climbing out of a hole in the snow with much grunting. Boromir had gotten himself out and was helping Sam out of the snow, who shivered and muttered something about the superiority of snowless weather. After everyone was on the surface, and after Sam also made sure Frodo was unharmed, Gimli spoke what was on everyone's mind.

"Great war-hammers, one more dumping like that and we'll be finished!"

"He's right," Aragorn concurred, "there's no helping it. We won't get over the mountains by this road!"

Gandalf looked them over, and they were starting to wonder of he would respond, when he said, "Yes. We shall get off this mountain. It seems the Terminator was correct…" As he walked back down the trail to take the lead again, they noticed a troubled look on his face. But the companions didn't ask him about it; they just wanted to get to warmer elevations.

A few hours later, they were walking the rocky trail down the mountain, on the west side again. Though they were glad to be out of the cold, they showed no signs of it. Their backs slumped as they trudged along, and their eyes stayed focused on the ground. The Terminator was his usual self as he walked alongside Aragorn, and presently he spoke.

"As I informed you earlier, thi—"

"Yes! I know!" Aragorn replied hastily. "I suppose… you were right…"

"Affirmative."

After another hour of walking, they finally collapsed in a clearing to the side of the road just as the sun passed its zenith. Soon Gandalf stood and addressed the nine of them.

"Well my friends, Caradhras has defeated us. We will not get over the mountains by any pass, and the Gap of Rohan is still too dangerous. There is only one road left for us. Moria." When no one responded, he continued. "I will not mislead you: it _will_ be dangerous. It will be two days or more in almost complete darkness, and even I cannot tell what we will find in there."

Aragorn was the first to respond. "I would not have us travel this road if there was any other way." He shot a glance at the Terminator. "But it seems that we have come to that point. I agree with Gandalf."

With the two of them expressing their views there was little more discussion. The others agreed to go through Moria, though Frodo was not the only one troubled by the prospect.

"Let us cover as much ground as we can before nightfall," said Gandalf. "Come, the entrance is not too far south."

…

Far to the north, a lone figure walked along the road. The trees around him were drenched in the afternoon sun, but he paid no heed to his surroundings. His brown-haired head faced downwards, searching the ground in front of him.

The figure had lost track of them outside Bree, but he was catching up. Presently he came to a low point in the road where footprints were left in the mud. Stopping to bend over them, the figure's face showed not a shred of emotion as he studied the tracks. Yes, they had definitely come this way. There were the four sets of barefoot prints in the mud; but there were more as well, left by booted feet. The target had new companions? It did not matter. All that mattered was completing the mission. And the lone figure was very good at that.

Rising once more, he continued south, his face still an emotionless slate. It would not be long now. They had to stop and rest, and he could walk as long as long as he needed to. Yes, he would find them very soon.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day**

**Chapter 8**

Night had fallen. In the darkness nothing pierced the silence but the noises of creatures moving in the underbrush and the tramping of feet. The ten travelers made no other sound themselves as they crept up the trail. It wasn't long before running water was heard dribbling in the distance. Soon a snaking streambed angled up beside the path, following them as the trees began to clear. As Frodo again wondered when they would reach the Mines, suddenly the view ahead opened up.

As the companions had traveled through the woods they had been vaguely aware that there was a cliff to their left, but now the rock face was in plain sight. It was as smooth as any wall you might find in a house, but it jutted up higher than any building the hobbits had yet seen. Towards the far side of the wall water poured over the cliff from the crumbled remains of an aqueduct, from which it fell into a series of pools that ended in a massive pond at the foot of the cliff. The pale moonlight was the only way the companions could see anything, for Gandalf dared not risk their torches being spotted. By what they might be spotted he had declined to say.

The dark water loomed to their right as they walked along the face of stone. There was about a ten foot-wide space between water and wall, but despite all the room everyone preferred to stay close to the cliff. Something about the dark lake troubled them, even though they didn't know why. Frodo shivered as much from the water as from the wind. He gazed up at the mountains to the south, straight ahead, just to have something else to view. In the darkness he could only catch fleeting glimpses of what was probably snow on their heights that seemed to disappear whenever looked at directly. The easiest way to tell there was something there was by the lack of stars in that part of the sky. In the end he just stared at the ground in front of him.

"Here," Gandalf said, stopping suddenly. Frodo looked up to see their leader facing two trees that grew up against the cliff. The shore was wider at this point, and the whole fellowship gathered around to look at the find. The two trees hugged the wall like vines, their smaller branches snaking upwards to form a sort of arch, with nothing but the usual smooth rock between them.

"What's here?" Merry asked.

"Here is where we enter the Mines," Gandalf told him. "This is the west gate. From here it is about forty miles to the other side."

"I don't see any gate," Pippin commented.

"That is because it is camouflaged," said the Terminator. "Its luminescent markings have not been activated. They must be triggered with the correct access code while exposed to the correct frequency of electro-magnetic radiation."

"If I understand him, he is right, more or less," said Gandalf. "These doors are hidden, and inscribed with _ithildin_. Watch." Brushing his hand over the wall between the trees, he whispered with his eyes closed. For just a moment nothing happened, but then glowing lines began appearing. Spreading out from a point on the top, they flowed downward to create an arch with several curving lines of elvish script. Towards the top, beneath the curve of the arch, were a crown and anvil, along with seven stars. Lower down, snaking around the middle portions of the arch, were the images of two trees, barren of any leaf. In the center of it all was a star of many points.

"And here it is!" declared the wizard. "These designs are wrought of mithril, and made to mirror only starlight and moonlight. I have spoken the words that make them reveal themselves."

"So how will we open them?" Boromir asked.

"They are sealed with an audio-based lock bypass mechanism," said the Terminator. "A second code must be entered to open them."

"Gandalf, could you explain in some less-mangled language?" the man of Gondor asked again.

"My verbal communication is not mangled; I am using standard vocabulary from my language-processing core."

"Of course. Gandalf?"

"What I am sure our mechanical companion is trying to say is that these doors are sealed with magic that will only release when the proper password is spoken," the wizard explained. "This is what is written here:" Gandalf pointed to the elvish script with his staff. "'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak, friend, and enter.' So obviously we need only speak the password and we may go through." He then held up his staff to the doors and said more elvish words in a commanding voice. When the words faded away the doors did not open.

"You have failed to enter the correct password," said the Terminator.

"Yes, I noticed," Gandalf replied gruffly. Again he spoke in elvish, and again the doors did not budge. With increasing irritation–not at all helped by the Terminator's continued comments regarding his failure–he spoke faster and faster until he threw down his staff in anger.

"Don't you know the password?" asked Pippin.

"I do not know the password _yet_," the wizard told him. "If you will be silent I might be able to think of it." He then sat down on a stone by the entrance and began muttering in quieter tones. The rest of them made themselves as comfortable as they could in the surrounding gloom.

As Gandalf tried to open the gates, Merry and Pippin were occupying themselves with tossing stones into the dark water. At the end of each stone's flight a splash would sound in the night as silent rings spread out across the surface. Frodo thought it might be a bad idea to disturb the water, but he was too tired to complain. As he sat watching the lake, a growing dread began gnawing on his mind. The darkness filled almost all of his vision; and he again thought of the ring on the chain around his neck, and he again thought it might be a good idea to put it on and run away. But it was only a thought, and he quickly shoved it aside. He turned to watching Merry and Pippin again. _At least they have something to amuse themselves with in this dark place…_

The Terminator was also gazing at the two hobbits. His eyes followed the stones as they arced through the air and disappeared into the black water. "Hey, did you see that one?" Pippin called out.

"My optical sensors detected it," said the Terminator. "Do not do it again."

"Why not?"

"It is probable that it will attract predatory organisms to the surface."

"Well that's great. Is there nothing to do in this gloomy place?"

"I am not programmed to have fun, so I am unable to answer."

As Pippin and Merry sat down sullenly by the water, the Terminator walked over to Gandalf. "You still haven't entered the correct code," he observed.

"I am quite aware of that," Gandalf replied. "If you will leave me in peace, I may be able to come up with it."

The Terminator's eyes scanned the designs on the gate. "Is it possible that the gate has a biometric bypass circuit?"

"Given that I do not know what that is, no."

"Are you sure? I can simulate any fingerprint combination necessary to bypass such a system."

"Please! There is one way we will get in, and that is by speaking the password."

"Do you have any explosives that could penetrate the door?"

"Does it look like I do? Use your head!"

The Terminator looked at Gandalf, then back at the gate. "Good idea," he said. Gandalf was about to ask what the idea was when the Terminator charged forward with his head down. The other companions jolted and covered their faces as a cloud of dust flew from the gate. Those who had been clear of the plume jumped up and surrounded the gate in a semicircle, weapons drawn. Pippin and Merry, who had taken a full blast of the dust, were also up and staring at the gate (in between fits of coughing). As the dust settled the fellowship saw the Terminator standing just inside a gaping hole in the archway. "It's open," he said.

Nine pairs of eyes stared in disbelief. They could now see that the door had been a foot thick; giant pieces lay scattered inside the dark entrance, their ithildin lines fading. The patterns on what parts of the door that remained on their hinges were also losing their luminescence. Gimli stammered in disbelief before finally getting his words out.

"You- You just destroyed an ancient piece of dwarven craftsmanship!"

"It's open, isn't it?" replied the Terminator.

"Listen, you mechanized menace! That was Durin's gate. It's a piece of my people's heritage!"

"It's also open."

Gandalf huffed under his breath. "Humph, terminators…"

"You're not even injured?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"Negative," the Terminator replied. "My titanium endoskeleton protects me from most blunt-force trauma."

"So wait, now we'll never know what the password was?" asked Merry as he wiped dust off himself.

"The access code is _mellon_." The Terminator informed him. As he uttered the last word, the remains of the door started creaking. With a weak scraping sound the hunks of stone swiveled outward, widening the entrance just a bit.

"_Mellon_, of course!" cried Gandalf, but he then asked in irritation, "Why didn't you just tell us that was the password?"

"You told me to use my head."

"Not literal- oh, never mind. Let us get this journey over with."

Frodo stepped forward with the others, but suddenly something yanked his left leg backwards, tripping him. Whatever had grabbed him began dragging him towards the water.

When the rest of them heard Frodo's scream they looked back to see a tentacle reaching out from the water to drag him into the pond. The Terminator bolted after him and grabbed the snake-like limb. Heaving with all his strength, he ripped off the end as the rest of the tentacle flew back into the water. The Terminator shoved Frodo towards the door as the hobbit yanked the broken end off his ankle. As he dashed for safety, a whole swarm of the slimy appendages shot out of the water. A monstrous head also appeared, rising out of the water like a whale. Several tentacles latched onto the Terminator, but they couldn't be budge him. He deftly threw some off and whacked the others free with his mace. His face never showed any concern, but when Frodo went sliding past, pulled by several more tentacles, the Terminator leapt after him.

Boromir and Legolas also came to his aid, Boromir slicing the tentacles away as the Terminator held the terrified hobbit back from the water. Legolas fired three precise shots between the monster's eyes, and the beast groaned as it momentarily released Frodo. "Get him inside!" yelled the Terminator. As Legolas and the others rushed through the doorway, Aragorn and Boromir stayed behind to fend off the attack. They slashed at any tentacle that dared come near, and were nearly overwhelmed. The Terminator pushed between them, whipping out a large knife and flinging it at the mass. It struck the monster between the eyes, giving Boromir and Aragorn enough time to dash in the door to safety. The Terminator brought up the rear as the monster's tentacles latched onto the rocks around the entrance. With a thunderous roar the gate collapsed, with nothing but a pile of boulders to indicate anything was there before.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Lord of the Rings 2: Judgment Day**

_(Author's note) Well, sorry for the long wait. Combining watching the Olympics with procrastination does not make for speedy writing. In any case, I have a few announcements:_

_1. I'll make you guys an offer: if you draw some kind of fan art for this story, I'll consider using it as the picture._

_2. A minor change has been made to the formatting of the story. The first part of the story (all currently posted chapters and some future ones) is now titled "Part I: An Unexpected Terminator"._

_3. I have begun making minor revisions to the earliest chapters, mainly just some grammar corrections._

_I hope you guys like the changes, and remember to review!_

**Chapter 9**

The rumbling continued for a whole minute before silence joined the darkness. Even then an occasional muffled crash could be heard outside, as an errant stone tumbled down the fresh slide. Frodo's pulse pounded in his head as his lungs pulled in air. Around him the only indication that he wasn't alone was the breaths and coughs of his companions. Suddenly a light appeared in the darkness: Gandalf had lit a stone at the end of his staff, filling the surroundings with a pale glow. Around the hobbit his friends shielded their eyes from the sudden brightness.

"Is everyone here?" the old wizard asked. A quick survey found all the companions present and unharmed. The nine of them clustered around Gandalf, eyeing their surroundings nervously. The entrance hall they stood in was crumbling and decayed, and that was just the intact part. The door they had just passed through was no longer; a pile of rocks spilling into the room was all that was left of it. On the other side of the room an opening led into a dark hallway.

"It seems our path is now set," said Gandalf. "Let us go through the Mines."

"The rock is obstructing my sensors," announced the Terminator. "We must maintain a high level of caution."

Gandalf led them into the dark passageway ahead, followed by Frodo and the Terminator. The others fell in behind them, casting nervous glances all around.

Later, when he looked back on it, Frodo remembered very little of that first day. He remembered walking in darkness, the glow of Gandalf's staff silhouetting the Terminator in front of him. Footsteps echoed through the passageways. Now and then they traversed walkways where empty space spread out to either side. Frodo would gaze into the vast spaces, searching for anything in the darkness. Sometimes he thought he could see flickering points of light deep below him; but he could never be sure that they were actually there, and he didn't bother telling anyone.

After what seemed like a week of a waking dream, Gandalf announced a halt. Somehow they had ended up in a barren guard room off to the side of the main path. Gandalf said something about how long it would take to get to the other side of the Mines, but Frodo was too tired to pay attention. He slumped into a corner, with Sam resting nearby. The Terminator stood by the entrance, joining Gandalf on the first watch. Sam muttered something into Frodo's ear; but the hobbit was already asleep, lost in troubled dreams.

…

The pool was still again. The slide of rocks didn't move. The wind was calm.

The only movement was a brown-haired figure walking along the wall.

He strode up to the slide; he hadn't expected this. What happened? The target must have gone through here. If he were dead the figure would have sensed his body in the rubble.

He calmly walked off to the side of the jumble. Inserting his hand into a crevice between two boulders, his body began changing. It went colorless, morphing into a smooth, silvery surface. His arm, and in turn the rest of his body, flowed into the crack.

On the other side, the silvery substance flowed around a rock and pooled on the floor. Once all of it was through, it rose up like a cobra and took the shape of a man again. If anyone with a light had been there, they would have seen the surface fade back into regular tones of skin and clothes. Without waiting the figure marched into the hallway ahead. They were very close, now.

…

Frodo ran along the dark halls, gasping for breath. Eyes studied him from the shadows, creatures on the edge of his vision. He had to get out of there.

Bolting around a corner, he ran straight into a dead end. Picking himself off the floor, he scampered back the way he had been going. Every side path he had tried went nowhere. Sometimes they led to locked doors, other times to collapsed tunnels, and sometimes they just ended in a wall. The eyes snickered as Frodo was forced to continue along the main passage, sweat beading on his face. He wiped his forehead as he shot a glance behind him. Darkness masked the tunnel, but he heard _it_ following him. Heavy footsteps echoed through the corridor, getting louder all the time. His sleeve slid across his brow again. Why did it keep getting hotter?

Suddenly, almost as if his surroundings had changed in an instant, Frodo found himself at the ledge of a great chasm. Flames shot up from the depths, surrounding him on all sides as he covered his face and spun back from the ledge. Then he saw it. A shadow was coming towards him. There was nothing to the figure but a black silhouette, pushing the fire to the sides like a wind to make its path. Caught between a hammer and an anvil, Frodo kept between the figure and the ledge as the being closed the distance. He was wondering how long he could avoid them both when he tripped. Plummeting off the edge as the flames licked his body, Frodo screamed.

"Mr. Frodo, wake up!" yelled Sam.

Frodo leapt up, his back against the wall. He was sweating, his skin clammy and cold. Around him in the pale light of Gandalf's staff his companions had been stirring from sleep, but were now up and staring at him. Merry and Pippin came over and asked what was wrong.

"I'm fine," Frodo whispered. "It was just a dream."

Sam nodded, as if he knew exactly what his master was talking about. "I thought so. I haven't been sleeping too well myself." He rubbed his shoulders as he looked around the room. "This place is so cold. Can't we get a fire going?"

"No. We are about to start off again," Gandalf told him. "It may be safe to light some torches to have more light along the way. Most of the path ahead is tunnels, not open spaces."

"We should go soon," said the Terminator. "Staying in one place decreases Frodo Baggins' probability of survival."

"Yes, yes, but we must sleep sometime," said Gimli, rolling up from his reclined position. "I don't suppose you ever sleep?"

"I have a standby power setting which you may consider analogous to sleep; but no, I do not sleep."

Gimli mulled the comment over as Gandalf discussed the path ahead with Aragorn. The hobbits collected their few things as the others picked up blankets and prepared to move out. Their second day in the mines began in much the same way as the first, with Gandalf and the Terminator leading the way. It was different because before long the companions began ascending. The winding halls gave way to stairs that began climbing upwards and ever eastward. Many times the fellowship would come to a divide in the path, with dark, reeking tunnels twisting deep into the earth. They usually chose the upward passages, though a few times Gandalf would order a stop while he tried to recall which was the right way.

In one rather long and straight tunnel, Frodo happened to be looking backwards, beyond the edge of the torchlight where shadows danced on the walls, when he saw two points of light in the distance. They were much closer than the ones he thought he had seen yesterday. They glowed like the eyes of a cat, round mirrors reflecting the flames of the torches. Frodo nudged the Terminator and pointed behind, but the lights were gone.

"I was aware of an organism following us," said the Terminator when Frodo asked if he had seen anything. "I was able to detect its heat signature before it retreated."

"But what was it?"

"Its temperature wasn't consistent with human or hobbit body temperatures. It is possibly an enemy reconnaissance operative."

"It's Gollum," Gandalf cut in. "He's been following us ever since we entered the Mines."

Frodo stared in disbelief at the wizard. "Gollum? The creature Bilbo got the Ring from? I thought he was dead!"

"No, he escaped the dark tower. Or was let out, most likely."

"Barad-dûr is a maximum-security compound," the Terminator said, "he could not have escaped."

"Exactly. Gollum wants to find the ring as much as Sauron, and the dark lord probably hopes that Gollum will lead him to it."

Frodo looked frightened at the thought, but the Terminator told him, "Don't worry. My mission directive is to protect you, and I am physically superior to him."

Frodo took as much comfort as he could from that statement as the companions entered into a long hall. Two rows of pillars supported a ceiling far above, stretching into the darkness where their tops hid from the companions' lights. The fellowship's footsteps echoed against the bare stone walls. On the far side they entered an antechamber filled with bits of rubble and discarded weapons, but no other features, save an exit on the far side. As they walked through the aged door, Gandalf spoke, telling them that they were nearing the eastern gate.

"In front of us we will soon find the bridge of Khazad-dûm. From there it is only a mile to the exit hall. We will rest here for a moment."

"Negative, relaxation will leave us unprepared for the attack."

"What attack?"

"I am detecting low-level noises consistent with a large group of humanoids, probably orcs."

"Orcs!" everyone shouted at once.

"Affirmative. Their drums will likely be within audible range soon." His eyes calmly scanned the chamber. "This room would be a strategic place to defend. If we had long-range assault weapons we could kill most of them before they get here. Are any of you familiar with artillery ballistics?" The others just stared at him. "I thought it unlikely."

With a huff Aragorn began shouting orders as the companions scrambled to get ready. The Hobbits drew their swords and stayed back as the Terminator grabbed some of the abandoned weapons to prop closed the door. Those who had them whipped out their bows as Boromir put the hasty finishing touches on their barricade. He was about to step back and join the others when the Terminator strode up to the door and punched a hole in it. There were yells of "what are you doing?" before he aimed his bow through the new opening and began firing into the darkness. Amidst the now-audible yells of the orcs there arose a shriek after each arrow pierced its target. The Terminator shot off a good ten arrows before rejoining the fellowship in the center of the room.

Crashes rang through the hall as the door shivered with blows. Howls raged on the other side as it slowly splintered. Soon axe heads sprouted from the wood as the fellowship's archers began firing through the holes, killing a few of the creatures before more took their place. In thirty seconds the splintered remnant of the left door broke off its hinges and crashed to the floor. Orcs poured into the room, shoving the other door aside. The vanguard fell as the fellowship's arrows sank into their heads. The Terminator fired like the machine he was, downing orc after orc in rapid succession. The monsters scrambled like ants over their fallen comrades, forcing the companions to engage them hand-to-hand. Aragorn sliced into the first one foolish enough to near him. Legolas and Boromir found equal success, cutting down their enemies with ease. Towards the back, Gandalf charged forward with the hobbits following, Glamdring flying around the wizard in a whir, striking down orcs left and right. The hobbits did as best as they could, scurrying around and trying not to get themselves killed.

As two orcs rushed him, the Terminator swung his mace into one, sending it to the floor. The other one he kicked back as he swung his weapon up and then down onto the creature's head. Another howling goblin charged the Terminator, swinging its sword at his chest. The cyber took a step to the left as the crude weapon missed. Grabbing the orc's blade, he wrenched it free, punching the orc off its feet. Spinning around, the Terminator threw the knife just in time to slay an orc Gimli was fighting. "That one was mine!" the dwarf objected. The Terminator ignored him, turning to face more attackers. Suddenly a deep growl sounded from the hall outside. The Terminator (and even a few of the orcs) looked up just in time to see a massive cave troll smash its way into the room.

Shaking of the ensuing spray of dust and grit, the Terminator nonchalantly raised his mace, ready to face the troll. Behind the beast, the cries of the orcs in the hall rose to a screeching yowl. The cave troll raised its club, ready to smash its opponent into the floor.

And then it stopped. The look of blind rage on the creature's face was replaced with something akin to surprise. With a gurgling moan the brute teetered and then toppled, its club falling to the side as the monster fell on its face. The Terminator had jumped back just in time, and when he looked up he saw the cause of the troll's demise. Out in the hall, the orcs who didn't lie slain were fleeing in disarray. And just inside the doorway, standing over its massive kill, was the T-1000, its blade-for-an-arm still covered in the troll's blood.

Frodo slashed at an orc, keeping it at arm's length. The creature's rough arm and jagged sword were both longer than his own, and he dashed around as fast as he could, avoiding its reach. As he had hoped, the orc was distracted enough that it didn't notice Sam sneaking up from behind. Frodo jumped out of the way as Sam's barrow sword ended the orc's life. Frodo looked around. There weren't many orcs left in the hall. He had heard a lot outside just a moment ago, but why weren't they-

"It's here, run!"

The Terminator's words drew the hobbit's gaze to the entrance, where his protector faced the doorway. At his feet was the troll, dead. Had the Terminator killed it? Frodo's eyes traveled up from the corpse, and he saw the figure standing in the doorway. As he looked at the newcomer, its eyes met his. Frodo didn't need to see the blade arm to know what it was. Already Gandalf and the others had noticed and were hurrying out the rear exit, and Sam began dragging Frodo by his arm. He saw the thing begin to charge at him, and ran without looking back.

The T-1000 sprinted forward, right into the Terminator's mace. The swinging implement knocked the figure onto its back; and the Terminator dove for his enemy, ready to fight. But the T-1000 was quicker, kicking the Terminator across the room. He smashed into the rear wall, falling to the ground with a good chunk of stone on top of him. The T-1000, now with a normal arm, strode towards the slab of rock, but wasn't ready when the slab was hurled towards it. The figure tried to jump to the side, but too late. The mass struck its left side, and the T-1000 went spinning into the wall. Dust and rock fell to the floor as the Terminator rose and dashed over.

This time the T-1000 was ready for him. Its fist slammed into his head, but he managed to grab his opponent by the arm and swing it into one of the pillars by the entrance. The T-1000 in turn shoved him into the door's other pillar. As their fight spilled into the hall, a massive piece of masonry the columns had previously supported crashed through the floor, plummeting into some deep cavern below.

The Terminator struggled to stay on his feet, deflecting some punches but absorbing most. Ducking around the T-1000, he landed a blow on the back of its head. As his enemy's fist flew towards him, the Terminator dodged; but as he jumped back he tripped over a fallen orc, and fell towards the massive hole in the floor. Bracing himself on impact, he just barely managed to stop himself from falling. The Terminator turned over just in time to find the T-1000 in top of him.

As it kneeled on top of him, the T-1000's free arm changed into a blade, ready to drive into the Terminator's metallic skull and kill him. As the figure struggled to hold him down, the Terminator suddenly punched it in the side of the head, knocking it onto the floor to his left. The T-1000 moved to jump back on him, but then the Terminator shoved it to his right. The robot's own momentum combined with the push from the Terminator sent it over the edge of the hole. The Terminator was nearly dragged in with the T-1000, but he managed to wrench himself free just in time. Deep below, the T-1000 thudded into some distant bottom.

With his enemy out of the way (at least for the moment), the Terminator rose to his feet. His face had a few bruises and cuts that weren't there before, but he wasn't programmed to care. Backing up to give himself a running start, the cyborg jumped over the hole, back into the antechamber. He grabbed his mace from the floor and hurried out the exit, running through the dark halls to catch up with the rest of the fellowship.


End file.
